Sleep Well, Sasori
by littiot
Summary: After Sasori's death, each Akatsuki member reflects on the puppet man. Rated for language. First attempt at something other than crack or humor. Please leave a review :3


A weeks' time had elapsed since Sasori's death.

When he had first learned of Sasori's demise, he was in complete denial. When he first saw his body, laying there on the icy, coarse stone ground, twin blades twisting from the talisman painted on his chest where they struck, puncturing his heart, his mind became clouded; subconsciously blocking death from the distractions. He stood there, lips thinned, steely eyes, body sill. Silent. Like a marionette. Like the poor mutilated figure set before him which he referred to as his danna.

Then, it happened. Deidara broke. He body began shaking violently, his single eye dry as a bone. He lurched his head to the side, attempting to block Sasori from view. Deidara couldn't relieve his sight from the hitokugustu. His eye shot open, transfixed on Sasori. He was afraid. Afraid of what would happen. Afraid of what would happen if he let his danna leave him. Afraid of what would come next. Afraid of the answers to these inquiries.

His stiff emotions began to leak through to his brain like a toxin. Unaware that he was now towering above Sasori. He knelt down, hovering a hand above his chest, eyes hypnotized on his own hand, afraid of what he would find, knowing that there wouldn't be any glimmer of home this time. Shyly, he gently rested his soft, warm hand on Sasori's hard, wooden chest. He grimaced in the face of truth. Sasori's body was cold. And lifeless. Deidara quickly withdrew his hand in a muscle spasm almost as soon as it made contact with Sasori's lifeless body.

"_Danna..."_ he whispered, now on the verge of tears. "Sasori...SASORI-DANNA!" he shouted, long fought tears spilling onto his cheek. "DAMN THAT LITTLE BITCH! AND THAT OLD HAG TOO! HOW DARE THEY TAKE MY SASORI-DANNA FROM ME, UN!" he bursted, startling the seven shadows that watched him, glimmering in the pre-morning mist of the cave.

Deidara howled with rage, his blood boiling and his face heating up, cheeks flushed and eye flaring with an angered passion. He caressed Sasori's worn body, not caring that it was splintered with termite holes and caked with dirt and streams of blood. Sasori's head fell back weekly from the sudden jolt, revealing his dull eyes and the eerily content smile he wore.

Itachi hadn't thought much of Sasori. Infact, he hadn't thought much of anyone, barring himself and his dear brother, Sasuke. To him, Sasori was just a tool. A tool of the Akatsuki, as was he and his fellow comrades. A tool to be used until he broke. And when he did, it effected Itachi in a sense that the Akatsuki had lost another source of power. That the hunt of the biju would slow down a considerable amount, unless they could find an equally satisfactory replacement for Sasori in their allotted time, which, with Orochimaru still alive, wasn't that much to begin with.

Which raised the question of who to replaced him with. Young Tobi had been compassionate about Sasori's death, which meant that he had much to learn. Apart from what his mentor, Zetsu had probably estimated him to act, he saw the untimely death may work to his advantage. Tobi had found a loop, and now was his golden chance. His chance to prove his worth to the Akatsuki. _This will come of good use..._ Tobi thought, fingering the small, valuable ring that was held in his pocket.

Zetsu thought more of Sasori than Itachi did, but not by more than you think he would have. Death; to Zetsu meant a free meal. Unfortunately, Sasori's death meant nothing to him, as most of his body was wooden, and he wouldn't bother with breaking through him to get to his heart. It would only be tiresome and devastating on Deidara's part, who was, at the time, in hysterics. Zetsu had thought of Sasori as an acquaintance, not just someone who was in the same organization as he. He never really cared much for or about him, but he enjoyed the stoic, silent presence of someone who wasn't frightened of him or wanted him dead.

Despite what may come of it, Kisame felt a shred of sympathy for the puppet man. Sure, Sasori was usually busy customizing and repairing his puppets while he and Deidara hit the sake for the night, encouraging him to join in during their fun. But now, Kisame wished that Sasori would have drunk with them, just once. Sasori always seemed like a stick in the mud. He never attempted to start a conversation, but was skilled at quickly ending any that would so happen to start up that involved him, at least. If he wasn't eating, or out on a mission, he would lock himself away in his room for the remainder of the day, skipping meals on many occasions. Contrary to what was believe, Sasori needed food. But only in little proportions, every once in a while.

Kakuzu was disgusted. The idiot had gone and gotten himself killed; for not purpose whatsoever. Deidara had gotten Shukaku's vessel, but he had to stay and fight that wench and his grandmother. And now he was _dead. _Nothing good came of this, and now the Akatsuki had lost one of it's most efficient members, meaning more work for the rest of them. He had the same state of mind as Itachi did, concerning their project with the biju, but with money. Now the process would go slower.

Hidan felt sorry for his fallen comrade, in the short span of time he was in the Akatsuki. Hidan quickly removed a string of religious beads from beneath his coat, and began to silently pray for Sasori's spirit. Although it was not intentional, Sasori had died for what Hidan believed and worshiped in; destruction. In a way, he felt honored to fight along side someone who had given his life, even if it wasn't intentional.

Sir Leader stared at the expression on Sasori's face. Within the time he had known him, Sasori was a twisted, twisted man. He was sick in the head; a monster. Fortunately, his mentally ill state allowed him to harness his powers in a greater advantage. He was a skilled shinobi, and died happy.

Deidara's shouting was discontinued as he voice grew weak and horse. Yet he still rasped out to the lifeless puppet, even if it was barley a whisper. It suddenly struck him. Deidara went numb.

Gently, he laid the corpse down and stared into it's lifeless eyes. His lips parted as he spoke his final words to his fallen partner.

_"Sleep well, Sasori..."_


End file.
